


Answering

by EllBoots



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Prison, Self-Hatred, kissin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23946448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllBoots/pseuds/EllBoots
Summary: Essek got caught. Of course he got caught. He's losing hope until he gets a visitor.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 16
Kudos: 151





	Answering

Essek stood in the spartan room, head in his hands. He rubbed slow, methodical circles into his temples and sucked in deep breaths, trying very hard not to panic. He got caught. Of course he got caught. How he ever thought he could get away with this he didn’t know, but now, sat in his sad prison cell with its anti-magic wards, he could see just what a folly it all had been.

It was unsettling to walk on his feet in such an alien environment. Usually the soles of his feet would only touch the ground in his own home, where safety was guaranteed and there was only his own self present to judge. And they’d taken his mantle. It wasn’t magical, so he assumed it was done in an effort to make him feel small, which was working rather well. The grey robe he wore was tied with a purple sash wide across his waist, but it dragged slightly under his feet as he paced the room. His shoes, too, were uncomfortably thin on the cold floor, made primarily for floating rather than walking.

_You’re really complaining about your clothing? You’re going to be put to death, you stupid fool and you’re thinking about how cold your feet are-_

He ran his hands into his hair and tugged sharply in an effort to distract himself away from his thoughts. In the end, he was jerked out of this spiral of pain and self-loathing by a loud knock at the door.

The knock was merely a formality, of course, prisoners of Xhorhas no longer had a right to privacy. A guard entered and uttered a clipped “visitor” before shuffling out of the way and allowing the man behind him to step through. The guard didn’t look towards Essek as he swept back out of the room, leaving Caleb Widogast standing in the cell, door clicking shut behind him.

Essek stared resolutely at the slabs of the floor, tracing the cracks with his gaze, hoping whatever bitter admonishment was to come would be over quickly. He didn’t think he could stand to look at the man, his _friend_ , who he had so utterly betrayed. First by lying, spying and manipulating and now by being stupid enough to get caught. The Mighty Nein would either have to admit they knew of his crimes or lie to the Bright Queen, and he had put each and every one of them in that situation.

_Idiot, fool, you’ve ruined yourself and them, they’ll lose all credibility, you know what the court is like maybe they’ll be put to death too, it will be all your fault, all your fault._

“Essek?” Caleb spoke quietly, but Essek jolted out of his reverie nonetheless, the voice coming from much closer than he had expected.

Unable to stop himself he glanced up and straight into Caleb’s eyes.

His breath caught. There was no point denying that he had found Caleb attractive from the first second he stepped into the throne room, and everything that had happened since that fateful, damned day had only compounded the frankly embarrassing issue.

Hopefully Caleb would assume the small gasp stuck in his throat was due to fear, that would be infinitely less mortifying than the truth.

Caleb looked predictably rugged, strands of red hair coming loose from where it had been tied back and expensive Xhorhasian coat looking rumpled. He seemed as if he hadn’t slept in several days, although admittedly that wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him. Essek’s mind flashed inexorably to the long nights they’d spent together pouring over spellbooks, testing new theories and debating the finer points of casting. It wasn’t the kind of friendship Essek had ever experienced before, and the sight of Caleb’s face alive with excitement in the candlelight quickly sent it tumbling past friendship into something unknown.

Essek wrenched his mind away from the memories and back to the very present, much more deflated version of Caleb before him. He cleared his throat.

“If you’re here to reprimand me, let me assure you I am quite low enough already,” he gestured vaguely at his feet, trusting the weak pun and sight of the sigils on the walls was enough to illuminate his magic-less state. He continued stiffly, “And if you are here to impress upon me the extent of my failure, trust me the death sentence is doing that job much better than you could.” Even as he spoke, he wasn’t sure if that was true. Although he would never admit it, he thought Caleb’s disappointment could potentially destroy him more thoroughly than any execution.

Caleb visibly flinched at the mention of the death sentence.

“Essek, I’m sorry-“ he began. Essek couldn’t help a harsh bark of laughter at those words.

“You are sorry?” he allowed a hint of his old sneering contempt to enter his voice, “Did you commit treason, Caleb Widogast? Did you steal religious relics and sell them to the enemy? Was it you who was too stupid, too distracted to stop himself getting caught? Or did you simply befriend the wrong man?” He shook his head slightly, unwilling to let more of his inner thoughts slip out, poisoning the frigid air with their vitriol, “You have nothing to apologise for.” He forced himself to turn away.

Caleb lurched forward and for a sickening second Essek thought he was going to be punched. Instead, Caleb clutched each one of Essek’s hands in his own and squeezed. They were shockingly warm in the chilled room.

“I didn’t befriend the wrong man,” he said softly, tugging Essek’s hands and forcing him back to face him, “You have made mistakes, but who among us hasn’t?”

Essek took a steadying breath, “Caleb, you and your friends gave me your trust and I betrayed it. I know… I know you view me as a mirror to yourself.” He gripped the other man’s hands tightly and looked directly into his clear, blue eyes, “But we are not the same, I need you to understand that. From what I have been told, you were brainwashed and manipulated and did terrible things, but everything I did, I did in full knowledge of the crimes I was committing. Admittedly, I do not agree with the religious reasoning behind my imprisonment, but my actions were part of what resulted in a war,” he gripped Caleb’s hands somewhat desperately, willing him to understand, “People are dead, because of me. War was not my intent, but it was the result and for that I deserve to be here, and I deserve my punishment.”

Caleb’s face had fallen during this speech, and he looked wretched. When he wasn’t floating, Essek realised he was the slightly shorter of the two. That small revelation twisted his heart in a way he didn’t want to examine.

“I…” he had always loathed apologising. His father had told him it was a sign of weakness, and he’d never found reason to disagree, “You and the Mighty Nein were only kind to me. Even after you knew what I had done, you didn’t turn me away. I cannot thank you enough for your friendship.” He realised with a detached sense of horror that his voice had dipped into a whisper so as not to betray the lump rising in his throat.

It didn’t make him feel any better that Caleb seemed to be equally distressed.

“You know, the Mighty Nein, Veth and the others, they saved my life,” he spoke equally quietly, voice gruff, “I know you broke our trust, lied to us. I thought… I thought I could trust you.” Essek felt a sensation in his chest that he supposed was what people meant when they talked about heartbreak, “And yes, some of the others would agree you deserve your punishment. But I don’t think you deserve to die, and I know if I spoke to them we could come up with a plan to get you out-“ Essek dropped Caleb’s hands and took a step back from the increasingly desperate-sounding man.

“I couldn’t ask you to,” he breathed out, “I wouldn’t ask any one of you to risk that, not for me, I don’t deserve it-“

_Your father, the Luxon, the war, the scapegoat, you are a curse that drags others down, another entry on your excessive list of sins._

“Well you don’t deserve to die!” Caleb’s voice rose sharply, drawing Essek’s attention once again. His face was so open and anguished Essek felt he could read anything he wanted from it. Past, present, future, all open to him if he only asked. He stepped back into Caleb’s space almost without conscious thought.

“And I won’t let you die for me.” He said firmly, not taking his eyes from Caleb’s face, “I risked a lot of things for selfish reasons, but I will not risk you.” He had meant ‘you’ to refer to the whole party, but the way Caleb’s eye’s widened fractionally suggested he inferred another meaning. Essek didn’t correct him, after all he wasn’t wrong.

“When I saw you drop your disguise on that ship,” he began quietly, and Essek felt his heart drop to his poorly-clad feet, “When I saw you talking to that man, I hadn’t realised- Until then I hadn’t-“ he cut himself off, struggling to find the words. Essek couldn’t take his eyes from the other man’s face, seeing his eyes skitter around the room, unwilling to land as he searched for answers within his own head. He had seen similar behaviour in the midst of a debate, gaze flickering from point to point as the thoughts in his head were ordered into speech. He was so absorbed in watched Caleb’s face he almost didn’t notice when his hand was once again enveloped in a warmth.

“When I saw you on the ship,” Caleb began again, stronger, “It felt like the world was crashing down around me. I hadn’t realised until then, how much you meant. How much I cared.”

He was staring down at their entwined hands as he spoke, as if he could have any doubt for Essek’s feelings. Or perhaps he was simply ashamed of the feelings he had towards such an abhorrent character; he couldn’t have been blamed for that.

“You told me once that maybe we were both damned. You acted on misplaced loyalty and I acted on selfishness. You have,” his voice wavered, “You have all been the greatest and, in the interest of fairness, only friends I’ve ever known. But that was selfishness too, because I knew I was lying from the beginning. And you. I have never known another person quite like you, Caleb, and I would never wish to. I’m glad it was you that came to visit me before the end.”

It hit him with sickening suddenness that he was going to die. His thoughts had been in an increasing downward spiral of self-loathing in the days since he’d been imprisoned but had not yet reached the logical conclusion: _I deserve to die_.

In struck him upon thinking it that it wasn’t true. The voice in his head liked to crush him down but never strove to kill him. He had never wanted to die.

“I don’t want to die,” the strength of the realisation forced the words from his mouth, “Caleb, I don’t want to die.” He felt hot tears streak down his face, quickly followed by Caleb’s hand, rushing up to sweep them away.

“Then I won’t let you.” he whispered, and pressed his lips against Essek’s.

For one brief, blistering moment all he could feel was the heat on his cooled skin. Then Caleb’s mouth moved on his and his brain went blissfully blank.

His traitor’s heart hammered in his chest. He didn’t remember the last time he had felt so exhilarated, so alive. Well, perhaps when he’d stolen a priceless religious artefact and sold it to a state enemy. But even then, this simple press of lips on his felt somehow more precious, and more dangerous.

He supposed he couldn’t balk at a little danger now.

Essek gasped into the kiss, sliding his tongue between Caleb’s parted lips to explore his mouth. Caleb reacted instantly, pressing their bodies flush together, one hand in Essek’s hair and the other had snaked around his waist to rest on the small of his back. Essek felt he ought to be embarrassed that he could do nothing but cling to the other man’s shoulders, but he couldn’t drag up any remorse, not for this. The hours and days and months he’d spent pining over this man, torturing himself with aloof flirtation that he was resigned to going nowhere. The number of nights he had spent imagining this very situation, in his cosy study in the candlelight, not in a prison cell days from death.

He screwed his eyes shut at the thought and tugged Caleb closer, trying to make the kiss as deep and desperate as his wayward emotions. He didn’t want to forget a second. If he had to die he would do it with the memory of Caleb’s hands pressing him close, and his radiating warmth spreading heat throughout his whole being.

Eventually Caleb pulled back and Essek had to deal with the sombre reality of opening his eyes. Childish, perhaps, but he couldn’t predict his reaction to seeing Caleb walk away from him, in all likelihood for the final time. Pushing aside his trepidation he blinked open his eyes, feeling at once calmer than he had in weeks, and filled with a sparkling energy he had never felt before in his life.

Caleb stared at him with an expression Essek couldn’t quite place. He ran his thumb across Essek’s cheekbone, eyes darting around his face, never settling, always seeking answers. Gods Essek wished he could give him his answers.

Although he was loath to break the quiet reverie they had fallen into, he still felt the need to clarify.

“Caleb… I will do my best not to die. It is my choices alone that brought me here, and I will have to find my own way out so I cannot ask you to risk yourself, or any other member of the Mighty Nein, for my sake,” he reached up to cup the hand on his cheek in his own, “But I will not go down without a fight, I promise you that.”

Caleb gave him an inscrutable look again.

“You know, I would risk myself for any member of the Mighty Nein,” he leant in and kissed Essek once more, “Without them asking.”

Without waiting for a response he kissed Essek once on the forehead and turned to leave. Before exiting the doorway he turned and gave Essek a smile that sent a shiver of electricity down his spine, then he was gone.

The door was once again closed and locked, and Essek was back to being a prisoner, except now he was warm to his bones.

He smiled to himself and sat heavily down on the cot. He almost wished he had thrown all sense and caution to the wind and asked Caleb to stay for hours with him, but then he supposed he would have less time to plot his defence, or more realistically his escape.

He lay back and felt something like a knot at the small of his back. He thought perhaps his sash had become twisted during their… activities and reached behind him to unwind it. Instead, he found a small pouch tucked into the fabric that certainly hadn’t been there before. When he opened it, he found a mismatch of items that took his frankly addled mind a few seconds to identify as spell components.

 _That devil_.

His grin was sharp and wide as he rifled through his illicit gift. Enough for a ritual casting, but of what? What could work in the anti-magic field? He supposed if he created enough space between the arcane sigils he could break them with a well-placed dispel magic, but what could he use to create that space?

His mind buzzed with ideas and calculations, and he cradled the small bag filled with hope in his hands.

He knew he could solve this puzzle, because Caleb trusted him to.

Caleb had given him the means, now he would come up with the answer.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic i've completed since maybe 2015. Wow.


End file.
